


and finally,

by orchestra



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, lmao first fic...., this is literally..ya..good nite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchestra/pseuds/orchestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>home is very much where the heart is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and finally,

“hey, daichi, where’s our drill?”

it’s a gentle sunday morning and daichi shuffles into the living room, shirt unceremoniously hiked up as he scratches his stomach. the clock has been dismounted from its rightful place on the wall so daichi doesn’t bother with the time, and a rerun of last night’s game (spain versus netherlands, beautiful) plays on unattended. huddled over a pile of indiscriminate nuts and bolts and wood is koushi, whose hair is a whirlwind of soft gray. daichi had gently insisted on a haircut the other day but, apparently, he’s got to get his priorities in check.

“are you almost done with your stress building?” daichi asks, and he can’t hide the laugh in his voice as koushi sneezes into his sleeve. “i’ll go get it for you, just don’t fall over.”

“it’s not stress building,” koushi calls out with a sigh. daichi comes back with their handy dandy toolkit and gently places it by koushi’s feet, so as to not disturb him from his intense game of matching. their. it’s got a nice, sweet aftertaste to it.

daichi walks into the kitchen, and the following procedure is so routine, he could probably do it with his eyes closed: he pours out two cups of water, switches out the coffee beans in their machine, adjusts the strength to medium because god forbid koushi start off the day with a dark roast, and hits the switch. ah, yes, now it’s a sunday morning.

“halfway through the first forty five and alonso puts spain in the lead…”

swinging open the refrigerator door, daichi gives a start when the drill revs and pierces through wood. the insistent _vrrr_ , _vrrr_ is gentle and full of purpose, like koushi’s brows. daichi pulls out the carton of eggs, scallions and rosemary ham that koushi brought home the other day, and shrugs on the apron.

it is picturesque—a small flat resting twelve floors above the bustling of tokyo’s streets in its warmth that settles just over the harmony of sizzling omelets and rumbling mahogany, an unmistakable setting that which the two call home. nothing so out of the ordinary, and so at peace that even strangers like us would feel welcomed without word, right?

the toaster springs and greets good morning and daichi decides then that breakfast is in order. “koushi, come eat.” the sound of plates clattering cuts off the steady hammering. “before you cut a finger off.”

“please,” comes the voice just a fraction before its pouting owner, “who’s the one who says i’m good with my hands again?” daichi grumbles and koushi beams. “you look cute in that.” he kisses daichi on the slope of his nose.

they eat at the table, with koushi’s leg hiked up on daichi’s lap, and daichi steals bits of koushi’s tamagoyaki (though it’s more like koushi always saves a few pieces for daichi to indulge in, just because). the coffee films over, but suddenly they’re both too engrossed in the game to really care.

“and can you believe it? van persie strikes again. absolutely stunning!”

the dishes will come later, daichi decides, as koushi slips into the living room. “germany’s playing tomorrow. i wonder how that will play out.”

koushi replies with a distant hum. “hey, daichi,” he calls, “come here?”

and who is daichi to refuse? he walks into the living room right up to koushi’s side. daichi laughs. “what’s this?”

“tah-dah.” koushi gives him an unforgivingly beautiful smile. “thought you might like this.”

it’s a small wooden shelf, put together by careful hands, and while daichi truly admires koushi’s knack for crafts, it’s what lines the shelves that catches daichi’s breath. there’s a framed picture of koushi with his very first elementary school class, another of daichi midair against the neighborhood team from the town over, a few letters from shouyou and the gang, and in the very center, the team photo they took back in their third year spring in karasuno.

“it’s kinda lacking,” koushi says, “but i’m sure it’ll fill up eventually.”

daichi can’t help himself as he pulls koushi close to him by the elbow and earnestly presses his lips to koushi’s, finally breathing again. koushi snickers, kisses back, and gives a whoop as daichi hoists him up into the air, naturally slipping his legs around daichi’s waist.

“wait, hold on, i need to stop the recording. daichi—daichi!”

they fall onto the couch as a heap of playful laughter and sighs, and it’s like the crowd is cheering for them, congratulating them for having made it this far, keep going! there’s no end to love.

**Author's Note:**

> ah, yes hello.
> 
> this is my first submission to the haikyuu!! fandom and i..huh???  
> i really like suga-san and suga-san and daichi together is pretty cool too so i just wrote this.....yeah..
> 
> also the world cup is getting me PUmped to do what idk but korea is playing tomorrow god bless
> 
> thank you very much for reading. i hope you have a nice day.


End file.
